What You Don't Remember
by Veronica Barton
Summary: They say that “what you don’t know, won’t hurt you”… but what you don’t know, what you don’t remember, does hurt me. Ultimatum SPOILERS. Nikki's POV


What You Don't Remember

By AgentAlana

**SPOILER WARNING**... I haven't read the books, this fanfic was written after seeing Bourne Ultimatum… be warned…

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They say that "what you don't know, won't hurt you"… but what _you_ don't know, what you _don't_ remember, does hurt _me_.

1) THE OFFICE

I love working at night... Well, maybe "love" is a bit strong; I don't really "love" anything, except you... I guess you could say that I "prefer" the night shift, and I look forward to the one week a month that I get to "man" the office at night.

I think maybe I'm still waiting for you, like I used to, before 3 years ago… before you forgot who I was, who _we_ were together… before you forgot that I waited for you _every_ night after a "job."

You would come to me broken, lost, guilty and hungry. So we would escape our world for a bit and walk down to the corner café, where we'd sit making up the pasts that we couldn't recall, the people we must have been before the blur in our brains, before Treadstone.

Funny thing is, I don't hate her… Marie.. maybe I should hate her, because she's with you while I'm not… but you are free, and for that I am grateful to the woman lying in your arms somewhere out there... far from here and me... where you two are living the dream we dreamt up together, the dream I am certain you don't remember.

Maybe I should hate you for forgetting, hate you for everything you have put me through, for everything that you don't remember, and everything that you do. But God help me, I don't hate you... I ache for you, I long for you, and I wait for you... always hoping and praying that someday you will remember _us_ and come back to me.

These are the thoughts that run through my head, like they do every minute of everyday, as I slowly ascend the office steps on my last night to man the office this month.

From above, muffled sounds of commotion shake me out of me trance; my heart begins to race and my hopes rise as I continue forward like a moth to the flame.

Maybe this time it's you and not the cleaning lady; maybe you have come to use me as bait again. A girl can hope can't she?

I take a deep breath preparing to be disappointed yet again but and startled to find that it's actually you in flesh and blood and… with a gun. Clearly you are on the run again, but this time you are alone… and by the body count, I assume the worst.

There is no recognition in your eyes or demeanor, you are a man on a mission... there will be no dramatic reunion, no picturesque scene of teary hugs and kisses... Nevertheless, my heart falls to my stomach just at the sight of you and I have to supress the urge to weap... can't you see the turmoil of emotions struggling to stay beneath my skin? I swear I can feel them oozing out of my pores, but you remain oblivious... or maybe you think it's just fear.

For three years, it hasn't been you waiting for me at the top of the stairs... but it is tonight, you are here and I could literally reach out and touch you if I didn't think you'd chop my hand off first and ask questions later.

So I try to stay calm and think clearly... to make the most of this encounter, however brief it may be, to not waste it by shriveling up in hurt and tears, like last time.

You watch me like a hawk, but I can tell that you still don't see _me_, the "me" of "you and me." I'm still just that girl that _works in the enemy's office_. So I keep up my front, freeze my heart, and pray that you don't misinterpret my thinly veiled emotions for terror.

I can see the suspicion in your eyes as I lie to The Man on the phone, acting as if you are nowhere near.

For some reason this annoys me, the fact that my _everything_ is still wrapped up in you and the memories of us, while you probably can't even recall my name, let alone begin to imagine that I might actually want to help you or that I could possibly be on your side... this bugs me to the core and unlike the last two times that our paths have crossed, in the last 3 years, I find the courage to speak up.

You are clearly shocked when I calmly and confidently offer to drive you to Daniels myself; and this gives me a strange, yet brief, sense of satisfaction. I always loved being able to do what no one else could do – surprise Jason Bourne.

TBC


End file.
